Kingdom of Future's Hope (Royals of Faery Book 4)

by Hayley Osborn

He shook his head, as if clearing it. “Nothing.”

  I tilted my head to one side, knowing him well enough to see through his lie. “I know that’s not true.”

  He sighed. “I was wondering how I was going to keep the competitors safe without losing everyone’s trust.”

  I frowned. “By getting them out of here?”

  He shook his head. “The fathers of those girls have sent their daughters here in the hope she will become the new queen, and on the understanding that I will keep them safe. Bustling them out like rats in the water pipes will show them I’m too scared or too weak to fight someone like Rhiannon. It might even show that my family is not the right family to rule this kingdom.”

  “Fergus. Can you hear yourself? You’ve already beaten Rhiannon once. Why would anyone ever imagine you couldn’t do it again?” Assuming this was Rhiannon’s doing.

  He sighed, long and deep. “Why wouldn’t they? There are many in my kingdom who still think I’m too soft to rule. I guess I’ve never given them any reason to think otherwise.”

  “Apart from beating Rhiannon. And killing your father.”

  “Except, we didn’t beat Rhiannon, did we? She’s still here, and we’re still fighting. Sending everyone away while I stay here will make everyone believe I’m hiding something.”

  The flames on the roof below were taking hold. We needed to raise the alarm, and soon. An idea formed inside my mind. “What is the next challenge? And when is it?”

  Fergus started for the door to the staircase, answering over his shoulder. His forehead creased like he didn’t know why I’d ask such a thing right now. “It’s a survival challenge for the contestants to show how well they know their kingdom. Or more specifically, how well they know their way around the kingdom.” He held the door open, and I walked through, starting down the narrow stairs.

  “So you’re saying they … we must leave the castle for it?”

  He nodded. “You will be taken to a remote location and must race back to here. Those who return before the time limit is up win…”

  “You,” I finished, my heart contracting. Or at least, they won the chance for him to choose one of them. Hoping he couldn’t see how much I hated that idea, I concentrated on watching my feet as I descended the staircase. “Could it start tomorrow? Or even tonight?”

  He stopped on the landing. “I … don’t see why not.”

  I stopped, too, staring up at him from a step below. “Good. Let’s tell the girls they are leaving now. Let’s tell them you want to see how they react to having to do things at short notice, and that the attack is not an attack, but an elaborate beginning to the next challenge.”

  His eyes lit. “Then they won’t be scared, and they’ll be gone before they see any damage that’s inflicted tonight.”

  “Their fathers won’t have any idea what’s happened here, and no one will think you’re too weak to rule.”

  He stepped forward, reaching out like he was about to hug me. Then he thought the better of it, and his arms dropped to his sides. “You are brilliant.”

  I stared at my feet, starting down the stairs again. More than anything, I wanted those arms wrapped around me. “Would you like me to tell the girls? I can direct them to the tunnels. Tell them they have five minutes to pack a small bag before we must leave.”

  He nodded, all business. “Yes, please do. I’ll have Willow meet you in the tunnels to take you all to the drop off point.” His voice had taken on that distant tone again.

  There was nothing else to say, so I nodded and when I reached the next landing, pushed through the door that led to my floor.

  “Bria.” Fergus’ voice was quiet as he called me back.

  My heart leapt. Perhaps he’d tell me to stay here and help him fight the flames. Or that he’d talked the Court of Light into forgetting my blood promise. “Don’t forget your pin.”

  I stared at him, not understanding.

  He nodded at my pocket.

  Of course, the pin. I reached into my pocket and pulled out the spelled object that made me look like Amber, and attached it to my clothing. “Thank you,” I whispered, starting down the hallway.

  “Amber.” Fergus’ voice was just as quiet and equally insistent as it had been a moment ago.

  I stopped, but didn’t turn.

  “I enjoy working with you this way. I wish …” He was quiet for so long, I didn’t think he was going to finish. Then he added, “I wish we could do this always.”

  I turned to catch the look on his face, to check if he meant it or was just saying what he imagined I wanted to hear. But he was already on his way down to the next level of the castle, the door closing in his wake.

  TWELVE

  We needed just one carriage to take us away from the castle. There were only seven of us left, plus Willow, who accompanied us, as Fergus said she would. Willow blindfolded us and sat in silence as we bumped through the rough tunnels.

  When Willow allowed us to remove the covers from our eyes and we could look out the windows, our carriage was perched precariously on the side of a steep mountain, so high there was no vegetation nearby. Rain beat angrily against the roof of the carriage, and wind whistled a forlorn tune around it. The occasional burst of lightning split the darkness and suggested that making our way downhill would lead us to the tree line and some cover from the elements.

  Willow handed each of us a locator beacon, both her voice and face somber when she spoke. “You may use the beacon at any time between now and when you return to the castle. If you feel your life is in danger, or you just can’t continue with the challenge, press the button and you will immediately be collected.”

  “And the catch is?” Piper turned back from staring out the window to address the princess.

  Willow gave a single nod, acknowledging there was one. “If you press the button, you will immediately forfeit your place in the competition.” She stood and released the handle on the door, pushing it open. A blast of frigid air and icy rain entered the carriage, everything shaking with the wind. Willow raised her voice to speak. “Best of luck to all of you. And please, do not follow my carriage back through the tunnels. The tunnels are not for your use in this competition.”

  “Another disqualification?” Piper asked.

  Willow gave a nod. “We are timing this challenge. You must return to the castle within eighteen hours.”

  “Eighteen hours!” spluttered Essie. “How are we meant to get back so quickly without using the tunnels?”

  Willow ignored the question, instead continuing as if she hadn’t been interrupted, her voice raised over the elements. “Those that make it back within the allotted time are the girls my brother will make his choice between.”

  “And if there’s only one that makes it back?” asked Kaylor, clearly keen to get all the rules laid out.

  “Then that person will be the winner. Any other questions?” When no one spoke, she nodded to the door, dismissing us.

  I tucked my beacon into the small bag I’d brought and pulled on my cloak, quietly watching the other girls climb out. When it was my turn to follow, I thought I heard Willow whisper good luck as I passed her, but I couldn’t be sure.

  No sooner were we all out of the carriage, than the door slammed and it started down the hill and disappeared into the darkness.

  Samara started downhill immediately, opting to travel alone.

  Of the remaining girls, one was horribly ill-prepared. Despite telling her to pack warm clothing and walking shoes—which was more information than Fergus had intended to give us had the competition started in two days when it was supposed to—she’d come wearing a flowing dress and small-heeled shoes, I assumed, to look her best when she next saw the prince. She pressed her beacon as soon as Willow’s carriage disappeared, her hair already plastered to her head by the rain.

  Hundreds of sprites—tiny, human-like fae with multi-colored wings that seemed able to duck between the drops of rain—appea
red out of the darkness and surrounded her. Gently, they picked her up and flew away, some of them forming make-shift sleeves over her bare arms and an umbrella over her head.

  Essie smirked, unable to hide her happiness that there was now one less competitor.

  I couldn’t even raise any anger at the girl. She had no chance with Fergus, so it wouldn’t matter if she made it back to the castle. He would never choose her. Her friend, though, I wasn’t sure about. Fergus seemed enchanted by Piper, whereas I was growing more and more certain she was working with Rhiannon. I hoped I’d have proof by the time we returned to the castle. Or better, I hoped to lead Fergus directly to wherever Rhiannon was hiding.

  “What do we do?” whined Kaylor.

  Piper rolled her eyes and started down the hill, her feet sliding with each step and mud squelching over her white walking shoes. Essie and Kaylor skidded after her.

  We had to get off this mountain. I glanced at Jasmine, who was watching me. “Should we head down?”

  She nodded. “After you.”

  I started to walk, turning from time to time to check on Jasmine. She was slow and unsteady on the steep incline, and I waited for her to catch up again and again—I couldn’t leave her alone on this mountain in the dark when she seemed so uncertain on her feet. By the time we reached the cover of the trees, we were saturated and the other girls were nowhere to be seen. “If we listen, we can probably find the others. Catch up to them.”

  Jasmine shook her head. “This is a contest, Amber. I don’t want to travel with them.”

  I stared at her. Was that the reason she’d taken so long to climb down the first part of the mountain? To put distance between us and the other competitors?

  She gave me a wry smile and a small shrug. “I mean, I’m happy to go with you. But not the others.”

  I smiled, distracted. She might not want to be around them, but with them was where I needed to be. I especially needed to watch Piper. And now there was so much distance between us, I hoped I could move fast enough to find her again.

  “Unless you don’t want to. I mean, that’s fine, too.” As she spoke, her foot slid in the mud. Her arms wheeled and she screamed, reaching for me. She missed, skidding past and flailing to reach the nearest tree branch before tumbling onto her backside.

  In a blink, she was gone. Out of sight in the darkness, nothing but the cracking of branches and her muffled screams signaling her route downhill.

  “Jasmine!” The forest was dark, and despite my prior knowledge of the challenge, I hadn’t remembered to bring a torch. Once the noise of her skidding and bumping over the steep ground stopped, the forest seemed extra silent. Even the chatter of the other girls in the distance had disappeared. I started down the hill, bracing myself with probably the same branches Jasmine had reached for and missed.

  My progress was slow, and panic increased my heart rate, threatening to overwhelm me. There was no response from yelling her name. What if she was hurt? What if I couldn’t find her in the darkness?

  “Jasmine!” My voice broke as I called her name yet again. I stopped to listen for her reply, but it seemed as if the night swallowed my voice. Just as I started picking my way down over tree roots and between tree trunks again, I heard something.

  I stopped, casting my hearing wide in the darkness, but all I could hear was my breathing and the patter of rain against leaves.

  “Jasmine?” I called again, my fingers wrapped around a tree branch to stop me from taking the same path as her.

  There it was. More of a grunt than an answer, but a response, nonetheless. “Jasmine?” I followed the sound, slowing my steps and listening for her between each one.

  “Amber.”

  Her voice was weak, but a breath of relief rushed from my lungs. She was all right. “I’m coming.”

  “Careful.” Her voice was strained.

  Her beacon had fallen from her pocket and lay upon a tuft of spider grass, its pink flowers blooming in the rain. I bent and scooped up the beacon as I passed, a handful of spider grass coming with it, and shoved it into my pack.

  I made my way between trees, taking hold of anything I could to slow my progress; vines, branches, roots.

  Suddenly the trees thinned, and the ground fell away to nothing.

  Another three steps, and I’d have been off the edge of a sheer cliff. Jasmine lay on her stomach, her legs dangling over the edge of the cliff and one hand gripping tight to a thick tree root. The other arm rested at an odd angle, and I was pretty sure it was broken.

  Rain beat down on her and wind pulled at her cloak and hair.

  Her eyes met mine, begging my assistance. “Help.” Her voice was hoarse.

  I dropped onto my stomach and inched forward, wrapping my hands around her arm.

  “Please don’t let me go.”

  “I won’t.” I gripped her arms, but couldn’t pull her up. I didn’t have the strength, especially without magic. But she didn’t have that problem. “Use your magic.” She should have done that already.

  Jasmine shook her head and ground out an answer. “Can’t.”

  “Of course you can. Use it to…” I wasn’t entirely sure how best to use it in this sort of situation. My magic would have found its own solution. As I thought about it, my magic pooled in my veins, begging to help. I couldn’t afford the same reaction I’d had last time I needed to use it. Not while I held Jasmine’s life in my hands. “Make it dig into the ground. Make it give you something to grip as you climb back up.” I didn’t know how she should use it, just that she must.

  “I’m too weak,” she whispered.

  I shook my head, looking into her eyes. “You’re not. I believe in you, Jasmine. You can do this.” Concentration lines framed her face, and by the smallest increment, the pressure on my arms decreased. She was doing it. She was moving. “That’s it! Dig deep, Jasmine.”

  My magic begged again to be released, bucking and beating inside my body, so I kept my eyes shut, concentrating only on pulling her up with each miniature movement she made. Finally, she lay on the ground beside me.

  I lay there too, eyes closed and breathing heavily as icy drops of water pelted against my back. When my magic calmed, I opened my eyes and pushed myself up to sit.

  Jasmine lay on her stomach. Her arm was definitely broken—it lay bent at an odd angle beside her—and there was a trail of blood behind her where she’d pulled herself up off the edge. It didn’t come from her arm. There was no blood around that. Which meant it came from elsewhere.

  “Jasmine? Are you okay?” I glanced around for some sticks to splint her arm. There was plenty of dead wood lying around at the bottom of trees up in the forest. I got to my feet and collected two pieces that were flat and about the same length as her forearm.

  Jasmine didn’t answer. Her eyes were closed.

  I kneeled beside her and shook her shoulder. “Jasmine.” When she gave no response, I checked her breathing and rolled her onto her back. It would be easier to set her arm this way. Plus, I needed to see where the blood was coming from, even if most of it had now run away in the rain.

  She groaned as I turned her over, eyelids flickering but remaining closed.

  “Oh, Jasmine,” I whispered. The blood I’d seen earlier had come from her stomach, a deep gash from which part of her intestine now protruded. “You need help.” I shrugged off my pack and fished around inside it until I found her beacon that I’d rescued earlier. I pulled it out and pressed it into her hand. “Push the button.”

  She shook her head, her eyes fluttering open. “No!” Her voice was stronger than it had any right to be.

  I tried to smile, hoping she wouldn’t see the worry in my eyes. “You have to. You can’t continue on. If you press the beacon, Prince Fergus will send help.”

  She shook her head, her eyes clearing. “No.”

  I knew how much she wanted to win the competition. How much she needed it, so she wasn’t sent to marry a man she d
idn’t like in a court that wasn’t her home. But her wound meant staying was no longer an option for her. “You must.” I swallowed, wondering how blunt I should be. As she shook her head again, I decided I needed to be straight with her. “You’ll die if you don’t let them help. Your wounds are too bad.”

  She pushed herself to sit. Blood ran from her stomach, and her breathing grew rough and shallow. I didn’t know how she kept herself upright. I’d never seen anyone with an injury like hers do anything but writhe in pain. Sitting was usually the last thing on their mind. Her drive to win was stronger than I expected. With a shake of her head, she pulled her knees up and somehow pushed to her feet. One hand went to her stomach. It was too dark to see, but I didn’t need to see her wound to know that blood would be flowing like a river from it, and likely pooling at her feet, despite the rain. The other hand reached out to steady herself, to grab something, anything, that would hold her upright. But there was nothing. And we were still so close to the ledge that if she stumbled, there was a good chance she was going over.

  I jumped up and took her hand, helping her back to the ground. “You need to activate the beacon.” I whispered, hoping she would still hear the urgency in my voice.

  She shook her head. “I’m not giving up, Amber. I can’t.” She looked around, as if she might find something that would help her stay. “Do you have any medicine with you? I have cloth in my pack. Wrap it around me. It’ll stop the bleeding.” She glanced at the sticks I’d set on the ground. “And those will splint my arm, stop it jarring each time I move.”

  My magic jumped in my veins again, different this time. It wanted to heal her, but I wasn’t even carrying a medicine kit. There were other options she should be using. “You need proper help. From someone better qualified.”

  She drew her lips tightly together. “I’m not going home yet. If you don’t help me, I will walk until I fall, and then I will lie on the forest floor until all the blood drains from my body. I cannot face my family unless I’m on the prince’s arm. I would rather die trying.” Her outburst left her panting. She pressed her fist into the wound.